


Love is the Best Medicine

by dubooty



Series: Will's Mentally Ill And That's Okay! [2]
Category: Days of Our Lives
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Hospitals, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 05:40:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14664453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dubooty/pseuds/dubooty
Summary: Paul gets beaten and left to die. Will's not okay.





	Love is the Best Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> back at it agian with the horita fanfic

              The ambulance ride was overwhelming, but Will didn’t allow himself anything except the silent flow of tears down his face. He couldn’t do anything else, he couldn’t make the EMTs take their attention away from Paul for a second, who was unconscious and bruised and _bloody_ and all Will could say to himself was  _please, please, no, I need him please please please don’t take him from me._

The waiting room was so quiet, and as John paced, waiting for a doctor to come by to answer questions he had, Will sat, legs bouncing and hands still shaking. He can’t erase the look Paul gave him in the apartment from his mind, and just prayed to any god that would listen to _please just let him live, take me not him never him please PLEASE—_

 

*

 

“Will?” Marlena said, rushing to him and kneeling in front of his chair. She held her arms out for a hug but waited until he initiated it, because that’s who she was. She was always so respectful of his boundaries.

              “He—” Will began, but he knew that if he continued he would be sobbing again. He would rather be vacant and far away than facing what was happening because facing what was happening meant facing the reality that Paul might not be okay and that thought made his chest heave.

              “It’s going to be okay,” Marlena whispered, holding Will closely to her chest, and Will let himself cry then, let himself let go and let snot and tears roll down his face messily because it was his boyfriend in there possibly dying and he felt so _useless._ Marlena stood and looked around, “I’ll find someone who will tell me what’s happening.”

              It was just hours ago, he was at Marlena’s house for dinner and he got a call from Paul that had sent him running from Marlena’s without another thought, and he found Paul beaten and broken and bruised and bloodied in his apartment building because some goons from a case he was working on following him home and – and tortured him. The thought made bile rise in Will’s throat.

              Marlena came back and they sat and discussed it. Paul was in surgery. Besides the bruises, he also had a few broken ribs and one of his legs had to be operated on because the bone in his thigh was broken in two places. Will doesn’t want to think about what the men who tortured Paul could have done to make it happen, and yet the image of Paul screaming in pain while Will was just a few minutes away played itself over and over in Will’s mind until he felt his throat get tight and tears fill his eyes again. He hadn’t stopped crying the whole time he was here. He wished he could be like John and show his worry through pacing or impatience instead of just blubbering. 

              “Will,” Marlena said, “Go home. I’ll call you if anything happens.”

              “No, I can’t leave,” Will said, wiping his face.

              “Will, you’re covered in blood.”

              Will looked down at himself. When he had found Paul, he pulled Paul to him, trying to keep him from crumpling out of the chair he had been in. He didn’t realize he got blood on him. “I—”

              “I’ll call you, Will. Now go.”

 

*

 

              When he got home, he changed his clothes and scrubbed the blood off of his hands and arms in the shower, trying not to look at the orangey color the water turned that was washing down the drain. He tried not to think about the fact that just across the hall was where his boyfriend was tortured and left to die, and where blood is still probably drying on the rug that sits in front of Paul’s bed.

              Will was about to rush back out of his apartment, but upon second thought, he found an overnight bag and packed a few changed of clothes for himself, his tooth brush, phone charger, and medicine (he made sure to grab his anxiety medicine, not just the mood stabilizer, because he knew he would need it).

              The thought that Paul would die in that hospital felt like a parasite eating away at any hope he had. He wanted to throw himself on the bed and sob until his body couldn’t anymore. But if that happened, he had to be there. And if Paul lived, he had to be there when he woke up. There was no time to pity himself.

              When he got back to the hospital, Marlena looked at him patiently. “I thought you would try and get some sleep.”

              “I—” Will had started to say _I’ll sleep when I’m dead_ , but the thought seemed really horrible and filled Will with guilt suddenly when he remembered his boyfriend could actually die, so instead he just said, “I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway.”

 

*

 

              The doctor comes out and tells them that Paul is stable and out of surgery. Now they just have to wait for him to wake up, and with the beating he took, the doctor said it could be a while, since – if the bruises on his face were any indication – his head took a beating, so it usually takes patients a while to wake up from head injuries. However, the doctor said there wasn’t really any serious head injuries they could see from a CT scan, so he’s optimistic.

              So Will and Marlena and John tuck into Paul’s room. There’s a very squeaky fake leather recliner and couch, both a dark green color, but Will takes the straight-backed plastic chair and moved it right next to Paul’s bed to sit in.

              The doctors stitched up a gash on Paul’s forehead and Paul had a massive cast on one leg, high on his thigh and then all the way down his leg to his toes. His face was still bruised badly, though, his eyes swollen and purple, like it would be hard for him to open them even if he was awake.

              The next few days, Paul was still asleep. John had left Will with strict instructions to call him the second that Paul woke up but he had to go investigate, try and find who did this to Paul. Will understood. If something like this happened to him or to John, that’s exactly what Paul would do. Will felt more comfortable waiting by the bedside.

              Marlena pulled a few strings and found a way to let Will stay in Paul’s room after visiting hours were over, and this became Will sleeping with his head on the bed next to Paul’s uninjured thigh, and Will watching Paul and praying to whoever would listen that he was so fucking thankful Paul was okay. That he was alive.

 

*

 

              Four days after Paul was admitted to the hospital, and enough time for his bruises to fade to a yellow-green color, Paul woke up a little after midnight. Will had been dozing on and off for a while, but when he saw Paul’s eyes were open, he stood up so fast his little plastic chair fell over too. “Paul!”

              “Will…” Paul said, and his voice was rough from disuse. Will called the nurse using a little button behind Paul’s bed and then turned to him.

              Tears leaked out of Will’s eyes before he could stop himself. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

              Paul reached a hand upwards, the hand that didn’t have the IV needle in it, and cradled Will’s face in his hand. Will leaned into it gratefully. Will just watched him the whole time with the biggest smile on his face. “Why do you look so happy?”

              Will scoffed, laughing a little. “Well, honestly, after crying for four days straight, I guess I can say I’m glad you’re up.”

              Paul smiled a little. “You’re still crying.”

              “But these are happy tears!”

              “But wait… four days? I was out four days?” Paul asked slowly.

              “Yeah,” Will said, and his voice made it sound like it was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. “I need to call a nurse probably.”

              “Wait,” Paul said. “Before you do that…”

              “What?”

              “Kiss me,” Paul said. And damn him for being smooth and charming even when he was bruised to hell in a hospital bed.

              So Will leaned forward carefully and kissed Paul softly, and his heart felt lighter than it had in months. When they pulled away, and Will looked into Paul’s eyes, he opened his mouth and whispered, “I love you. I haven’t ever told you before, but I have to now. I love you.”

              Paul looked at him, speechless, and his gaze was overwhelming, so Will looked down at his shoes.

              “I’ll call the nurse—”

              “I love you too,” Paul said. “Sorry, you took me by surprise. I just… I really do love you too. When those guys were beating the shit out of me, that’s something that hurt me so much. The fact that… I hadn’t told you that.”

              Will leaned forward again, giving Paul another kiss, this time longer and more lingering, but still careful.

              He went out when the nurse and doctor went in and called John, who said he would be on his way momentarily.

              “How long as it been since you’ve slept?” Paul asked.

              “Well, I had been kind of asleep when you woke up,” Will said, shrugging.

              “Oh, and I ruined your sleep then?” Paul said teasingly.

              “Now that you mention it, yes, you did” Will teased back, and Paul laughed, but stopped when it hurt his ribs.

              “Go to sleep now,” Paul said, breathing deeply, holding his ribs.

              “No,” Will said, shaking his head with furrowed brows, “No! You just woke up.”

              “Yes, but you look like you’re about to pass out.”

              “I’m fine, Paul, I just—”

              “Will, I appreciate the fact that you put yourself aside to care for others. That’s one reason I love you,” (and butterflies erupted throughout Will’s stomach at that) “But because I love you, I want you to take care of yourself. Go to sleep, babe. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

              When John got to the room, Will was curled up on the couch, out like a light. Paul was a little drowsy because he had just gotten another dose of pain medicine, but he was awake enough to talk to John for a while.

              “You know that boy loves you,” John said quietly. “He sat here the first night you got here for hours, with his clothes covered in your blood before Marlena had to force him to go home.”

              Paul winced and looked over at Will’s sleeping form. Will looked like hell, honestly, but even still, the sight of Will was like its own kind of medicine.

              “But I’m tracking down who did this to you, Paul. Tell me about the case you were working on and I’ll find them.”

 

*

 

              Will ate a spoonful of Paul’s jello when he thought Paul wasn’t looking, but apparently he was and he reached out and pinched Will’s side, making Will giggle and shift out of his reach, laughing, “Sorry!”

              Paul gestured for Will to sit back where he had been sitting, right next to Paul on the hospital bed, with Paul’s arm around his hips, hand resting on his thigh. Will did easily, the touch of his boyfriend more comforting than anything else.

              “You know,” Paul said, rubbing his hand up and down Will’s thigh gently, “It _has_ been a while since we… you know…”

              With his smile widening, Will asked with clear amusement in his voice, “Are you suggesting we have sex in the hospital? When anyone could walk in?”

              “Would you go for it if I am?” Paul asked, seductive smile on his face.

              Will laughed loudly, shaking his head. “You’re crazy! My grandmother literally works here!”

              Paul nudged Will slightly, teasingly. “I know. I knew you wouldn’t but I had to know.”

              “You dirty dog,” Will said, leaning his face over to Paul’s and kissing him, chaste but open mouthed and lasting.

              When they pull apart, Paul leaned his forehead against Will’s. “Only for you, babe.”

              “I love you,” Will whispered, “So damn much.”

              Paul smiled. Ever since their first exchanges of I-love-yous, they’d been saying it so often that Marlena was teasing them about it. “I love you too,” Paul said anyway, because they meant it, and yet it would never grow old to say.

              “Now, what else can I feed you?” Will asked, looking back at Paul’s hospital lunch.

              “Will, you do know that I broke my leg, not my arms, right? I can feed myself.”

              “Yeah, but I want to, so shut up and let me.”

              Putting his hands up to signal his surrender, Paul laughed. “The broccoli is good. So some of that.”

              As Will turned away from Paul to stab some broccoli onto the fork, Paul looked at him, wondering how it was for Will before he woke up. John told him a little, like Will sitting there in bloody clothes for hours waiting for news on Paul. And from Will’s own lips, he knew how much Will had cried.

              Over the months of their relationship, Paul got to hate little else than the sight of Will crying. It made Paul want to destroy whatever it was that made Will feel bad, but he came to realize (with help from a little private talk from Marlena) that it didn’t always have a cause that Paul could go fight. Sometimes it was just a feeling that overcame will, a chemical happening in the brain with no origin. Paul couldn’t fight that off because it was within Will. It was the feelings and emotions that overcame Will and made Paul have to check Will’s body for raw, bloody marks because these feelings made Will want to hurt himself sometimes. It made Paul feel powerless, because he wanted to be actively stopping the source of those problems but he couldn’t. Therapy and medicine was helping Will, but it might never completely make him better. So all he could do was be there for Will, hold him or give him space when needed. It was damn hard to give him space, but once Will got back to himself, got what he needed from the time alone, he would seek out Paul and hug him and kiss him and thank him from his very soul that Paul did that for him. So, Paul knew, even though it was hard, that it was worth it.

              Marlena sat him down one day when Will was out trying to gather information on a story he was doing. It was a day or two after Will had told him about taking the medication and going to therapy once a week. She looked at Paul hard, and Paul squirmed under that gaze. She said to him, “You are not in a relationship with a mental illness.”

              He looked at her like he knew that was obvious, but she held a hand up so she could continue.

              “I know you don’t think that now. But the time will come where your relationship will be strained because of Will’s illness. I need you to understand that. And I need you to promise me that Will is important to you. Important enough to not leave when it does get hard.”

              Paul looked at her, and answered honestly. “I promise.”

 

*

             

              “Hey,” Paul said to Will, who was currently curled up on the green squeaky recliner next to his hospital bed.

              “Hmm?” Will answered, reading an article on his tablet that was balanced on his knees.

              “I’m sorry,” Paul said. “About all this.”

              Will put his tablet down on the squeaky couch and turned in the recliner, it squeaking beneath him. “What?”

              “I must have… I must have really worried you.”

              “Well, yeah, you did,” Will said, and his tone of voice was tonged with confusion, “But you didn’t want this to happen. Why are you apologizing?”

              “I guess it’s just because I wish… I wish I could be in a line of work that worried you less. You shouldn’t have to be worried like that all the time.”

              Will stood and sighed, stepping forward a little to sit next to Paul on the bed. Paul shifted his hips over a little so Will could be more comfortable. Will reached over a hand to hold one of Paul’s their fingers locking together, with Will’s thumb rubbing Paul’s hand. “You know… if your job wasn’t something you loved and something you were really good at, I would probably be trying to convince you to find another job, something safer. And honestly, I do wish you did something that didn’t put you at risk so often.

              “But… Marlena said something to me back when all that stuff happened with John and Steve and all that. She told me she loved a man who was always willing to risk himself in order to do the right thing. And that she would always be worried because of that. I… I think it’s just going to be the same thing for me. I’ll always be worried about you, but I won’t stop you from doing what you need to… no matter how much I wish you were a barista or something.” Will laughed and nudged Paul as he finished his impromptu speech. Paul smiled and reached up his hand not tangled up with Will’s to rest against the nape of Will’s neck.

              “You’re amazing,” Paul said, gazing at Will like he hung the freaking moon. Will looked down at the hospital blanket bashfully, smiling as his face heated up.

              “No,” Will said, “I just love you, Paul Narita.”

              “I love you too, Will Horton.” Paul pulled Will forward to kiss him thoroughly, pulling his other hand way from Will’s to brush through Will’s hair. Will moaned quietly, only a vibration between their lips, really, but it set a fire inside Paul. He pulled away from Will’s lips slightly. “Now you can’t make noises like that if we can’t at _least_ jerk each other off in here.”

              Will laughed. “Sorry!”

 

*

 

              “If you give me the crutches, I can walk out of here,” Paul said as Will pushed him towards the exit of the hospital.

              “Well, I left the crutches in the car that John is pulling around front right now plus I like pushing you around,” Will said, and Paul could hear the smile in his voice.

              “You sound a little too happy about that,” Paul said suspiciously.

              “I won’t lie, I am,” Will said laughing.

 

*

 

              “I’ll go get them for you,” Will said quickly when Paul suggested needing to go back to his own apartment to get clothes.

              “Will,” Paul said, standing and bracing himself on the crutches, “I will have to go back into my apartment at some point.”

              “But you don’t have to go yet, if you don’t want,” Will insisted.

              “I’m going,” Paul said firmly. He needed to prove to Will and to himself that it wouldn’t bother him. Paul hadn’t freaked inside the building or in the hallway when they got home from the hospital, like Will worried he would, but he hadn’t been back inside his room yet where it all happened.

              “Then I’m going with you,” Will said easily. Paul sighed, but didn’t say anything. He was glad, honestly.

              When he was unlocking his door, his heart began beating a little faster, but he didn’t say anything to Will, standing beside him. He pushed the door open once it was unlocked, and both stood in front of the room, without entering.

              On the floor in front of the bed, dark stains marred the rug’s pattern. The chair that Paul was tied to still sat there, vacant, and Paul realized he had stopped breathing for a second when he saw it.

              “Paul?” Will whispered after a while, studying his boyfriend’s face.

              “I… I was so sure I was going to die, Will.”

              Will stepped in front of Paul, blocking his view of the room. “But you didn’t. You survived and you’re here with me and you’re safe.”

              Paul shook his head, but Will reached up and held his face still, so Paul would look at him. “You are alive. John is going to find the people who did this and they’ll never hurt you again.”

              Paul nodded, Will’s hands still on his face.

              “Do you still want to go inside?” Will asked quietly.

              Paul took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

              Once Paul moved inside, keeping weight off his broken leg with the crutches, he surveyed the room closely. He would never quite feel safe inside this room anymore. He would always remember the sound of his own leg breaking, the feeling of the world around him going black, and the desecration of the place he once called home.

              “I can’t live here anymore,” Paul said quietly. Will had been moving to get Paul the clothes he needed, and he stopped and turned around to look at Paul.

              “Okay,” Will said easily, nodding. “We can put your stuff in my room until we find you another place.”

              “Us,” Paul said. “Find us another place.”

              Will looked at him, and opened his mouth to ask a question, but Paul interrupted.

              “I need you with me wherever I live. I need you there, Will.”

              “Okay,” Will said, smiling softly, and walked forward to kiss Paul.

 

*

 

              “This is a nice place,” Paul said, showing Will the pictures of an apartment ten minutes away on the computer he was holding.

              Will stood next to the bed, hands on his hips. 

              “Wait, look at this one too,” Paul said again, pointing at another apartment listing on his laptop.

              Will stood there silently.

              “Will?” Paul said, looking up from the computer for the first time to see Will, standing next to him on the bed, naked and half-hard. “Oh.”

              “You were the sex fiend in the hospital and yet I stand here,” Will said hands spread apart like he’s showing himself off, “Your naked boyfriend, and you’re more interested in your laptop.” Will’s hint of a smile showed Paul he wasn’t serious, and Paul’s face split into a large grin as well.

              “Oh, well.” Paul closed the laptop and put it on the nightstand. “I am sorry about that. Let me make it up to you?”

              “Mmm,” Will said, smile on his face, as he climbed into bed and straddled his boyfriend. He leaned down to kiss Paul, their tongues meeting chastely causing Will to moan slightly and his dick to jump against Paul’s thigh.

              Paul reached down to grasp his boyfriend’s dick and give it a few tugs, loving the way Will rocked his hips into the motion.

              “You know,” Will said, “I know you can’t fuck me like you usually do with your leg in a cast and everything, but I was thinking, if I do all the work it should be fine.”

              “Mmm,” Paul hummed curiously, kicking at Will’s neck, “Would you like to show me what you mean?”

              “After I suck your dick,” Will said, crawling backwards down the bed so he was looking at Paul’s dick right in front of his face.

              And when Will sucked Paul’s cock into his mouth, Paul moaned so loud he knew someone else in the building must have heard it, but he didn’t care because Will rubbed his tongue along the underside of his dick and tongued his slit when he pulled off to breath.

              Will loved blowing Paul. He looked up at Paul during, watching as Paul fisted his own hair so he didn’t pull Will’s, coming apart at the feeling Will was giving him. Any time Paul made eye contact with Will while he was getting sucked off, Paul moaned loudly and said something along the lines of “You’re killing me,” or “You’re so beautiful I could come just from looking at you.”

              Paul loved it too. Loved how Will’s pretty blue eyes looked up at him, loved how Will did this so well, loved how his boyfriend knew exactly what he liked. This time, in particular, he noticed how, as Will was on his elbows and knees, Will had reached a hand back and was playing with his asshole. When did Will get the lube? Will was getting sneakier, Paul realized.

              “Stop, stop, stop,” Paul said quickly, putting his hand on Will’s shoulder.

              Will pulled off. “Too close?”

              “I want to open you up,” Paul said. Will crawled up, straddling Paul’s hips again.

              “Really?” Will asked. Paul knew how much Will loved getting fingered. Or, liked anal in general, but fingering was something special. It created this sense of desperation inside of Will, and whether he came from being fingered or it was just to get him ready for Paul’s cock, he always began rocking onto those fingers, trying to get them deeper inside of him, trying to get more stimulation. Paul didn’t mind fingering Will, and in fact, seeing and feeling Will push back onto his fingers, a moaning and sweaty mess, was enough to get him on the edge sometimes too.

              Paul took the lube from Will without answering, squeezing a little on his fingers. Will put his hands on Paul’s shoulders and kissed him gently, and shivered slightly when Paul’s fingers, coated with cold lube, brushed his hole. Paul’s fingers circled Will’s rim softly, and Will shook his head at Paul, smile on his face.

              “Tease,” Will said around a soft laugh that became a moan as one of Paul’s fingers slipped inside of him and then quickly retreated.

              “What was that?” Paul asked, repeating the action, entering Will with his finger shallowly, then retreating outside again. He repeated this a few times before Will spoke.

              “Paul, please,” he said, panting against Paul’s neck.

              “Please what?” Paul asked, dipping his finger into Will’s hole again.

              “Finger m— _ah_!” Will’s plead broke off as Paul lunched his entire pointer finger into Will, finding his prostate easily. The hands that Will had on Paul’s shoulders gripped tightly, like Paul was the only thing letting him hold on. “Paul, _fuck_ , you’re so good at that.”

              Paul leaned upward to kiss Will, and this was something else he loved, how sloppy Will kissed when they do this, how Will came apart at the feeling of fingers in his ass at the same time Paul sucked his tongue.

              “Need your dick,” Will moaned into Paul’s mouth.

              “Already?” Paul asked teasingly.

              “Yes, fuck,” Will panted, “It’s been a while.”

              “Yes, it has,” Paul agreed, and slowly pulled his fingers out of Will.

              Will leaned down and stroked Paul’s cock, but it was already fully hard. Will smirked and kissed Paul quickly. “Fingering me turned you on?”

              “You know it does.”

              Adjusting himself to be in front of Paul’s dick, Will grabbed the lube and stroked a little onto Paul’s dick before he sunk down onto it, kissing him slowly at the same time He did so with a long, stuttering moan.

              Paul reached forward and grabbed Will’s hips. Will was the one who had to control the movement of this, but Paul could keep him steady at least.

              “Fuck,” Paul said, “You’re so good, Will.”

              Will breathed hard, “You’re not so bad yourself.” Putting his weight on his knees, Will leaned his hips upward some, pulling Paul’s dick slowly out of him before snapping his hips back down onto Paul’s lap, forcing Paul’s dick back in him quickly, making both him and Paul moan.

              “I love you,” Will said, holding Paul’s face as he bounced on Paul’s dick. “I love you,” he repeated again, his voice hitching slightly as he was getting close to orgasm. Paul felt himself getting close too, especially so as Will was rubbing Paul’s nipples, tweaking the hard nubs of them in just the way Will knew Paul liked. 

              “I love you,” Paul said, a hand leaving Will’s hip to tug on Will’s dick. Will groaned, riding Paul faster. “You’re beautiful, Will.”

              “Fuck, Paul, come with me,” Will panted, “I’m gon—”

              “Come for me, Will,” Paul whispered into Will’s ear.

              Will groaned, moaning incoherent phrases but something that sounded like, “You’re killing me,” made its way to Paul’s ears before Will spurted cum onto Paul’s chest. Paul came as he felt Will spend himself on his chest, coming in Will’s ass with a prolonged groan against Will’s shoulder, holding Will’s hips tight enough to bruise.

              Will moved himself off of Paul slowly, languidly, and Paul could look at him and see how he was about to drop off to sleep, but he managed to get off the bed and go to the bathroom to return with a warm wash cloth to wipe them both off with.

              “I—uh—I kind of really like it when you come in me,” Will admitted, seeming to be just as surprised by this admission as Paul.

              “That’s,” Paul paused as he tried to return his breathing to normal, but then continued, “That’s good to know.”

              “Yeah, jot that down for later,” Will said, laughing, and then returned to the bed only to curl up next to Paul. They had to lay in the bed differently than normal with Paul’s cast, but if Paul laid on his back, Will could lay half on top of him, their legs intertwined and Will’s head on Paul’s chest.

 

*

 

              “This doesn’t seem like it’ll work,” Paul said.

              “That’s what the instructions say it should do!” Will said, looking at the instructions again and then back at the bag he was trying to cover Paul’s cast with.

              “Plastic wrap could also work,” Paul pointed out.

              “I don’t agree,” Will said. “Let’s try it anyway.”

              Eventually Will got Paul to sit in the bathtub, cast covered with the bag. Will joined him once Paul got comfortable. They washed each other’s hair and soaped each other’s bodies and jerked each other off and still the bag leaked and the cast got a little wet.

              “I knew it wasn’t right,” Paul said, drying himself off.

              “Shut up,” Will said, but he was smiling the whole time.  

 

*

 

              Eventually, John called Paul and let him know that Hope had arrested the guys who had tried to kill him. They were working for the person Paul was investigating, apparently.

              “That’s a relief,” Will said, kissing Paul’s temple lightly when Paul told him.

              “Well, it’s one problem solved.”

              Will’s brows dropped. “What’s the other problem?”

              “How are we going to carry these boxes to the car while I’m in a cast?”

              “Oh, I solved that already,” Will said easily.

              “Oh?”

              “See,” Will said, and he went in the closet and pulled out a folding wheelchair that  Marlena had given them. “You’ll sit in that and I’ll just pile boxes on your lap and push you to the car. You’ll be like a mule.”

              Paul gave him a look. “That’s real funny.”

              Will gave him a look back. “I wasn’t joking.”

              Paul and Will looked at each other, and both of them just ended up laughing after just a few seconds of trying to stand their ground. Will, though his laughs, said, “I hired movers.”

              Paul hopped forward and put his arms around Will’s neck. “You know, even though you’re not funny at all,” Will’s face showed he was amused by that, “I do love you.”

              “Thanks,” Will said simply. He gave Paul the look he had given him the day he moved in, like he was asking Paul, ‘What’s the problem?’ Paul nudged him lightly, small smile on his face, and Will’s façade broke with a huge grin. “I love you too.”

              Paul looked at the man he loved, _his_ man, and thanked modern medicine for keeping him alive so he could spend the rest of his life with Will Horton.

**Author's Note:**

> LOVE THIS COUPLE 
> 
> if wilson gets back together i promise you i will quit days of our lives foever
> 
> thanks for all the comments and kudos on my last fics!!! they make me want to write more!!!!1
> 
> also briefly i just want to say like. if i post more in this series i will be continuing with the idea that will is taking medicine for his mental illness. i want people to connect to Will in stories that are different and about many different things but his mental illness shows through in those stories without taking over the story you know? thats what i love to see in fics you know??? hope that its coming through like i want!!!


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